The Rescue
by No pen names left
Summary: For Twisted-67 Peter has wanted Stiles since before his messy death. Coming back to life doesn't change that but Peter's not about to let his feelings ruin the young man's life. So he just watches from the shadows and dreams.


The house looked like a plantation home right out of 'Gone With The Wind' from the white columns that towered above me as I approached to the sweeping porch that curved around the front of the building almost crying for a Southern Belle to fan herself while drinking tea upon it elegance.

Anyone looking would see beauty and grace, well anyone looking with just their eyes. I could hear the heartbeats of over two dozen humans inside; either franticly beating with terror or the slow thrum of a drugged stupor. The smell of blood, both old and new, filled my nostrils calling to my darker side and memories of its copper taste.

This was the third house of this sort I had visited in the last few weeks as we all searched desperately for the boy, our precious spark. None of the other realized the importance he held within our raggedy pack until he was taken away. The hole that he left, more of a gaping bleeding wound, had the rest of us floundering with his loss.

But a boy like that, a spark of his untapped strength would not be killed; no they would want him for something special. And there were people out there, THINGS out there, that would pay dearly for someone like Stiles.

The door opened as I climbed the short set of stairs revealing an ancient crone of a woman. Her hair was the silver of a winter moon which clashed strangely with the dark yellow of her teeth that formed a cracked, jagged row as she smiled at me.

"Peter Hale. The wolf that cheated death. I felt you from afar and wondered what would bring you to my door."

"I've heard you may be in possession of a toy of mine. I was saving it for a special project but someone managed to snatch it away before my plans were complete."

The crone cackled. In the most obvious of fairy tale witch ways, she threw back her head, arms half raised at her sides, and fucking cackled. I held back my eye roll at her dramatics. I'm sure most of her customers were very impressed.

"Yes, Dark One, I might have your lost toy." My skin crawled as I walked past the thresh hold of her home, the myriad of protection spells and wards tugging on my awareness. The inside lacked the charm of the outer house. The rooms were dark, shades pulled, and coated with a layer of dust and decay. Old furniture rotted in the rooms, their crumbling forms giving temporary hiding places to the vermin that foolishly entered only to die from the heavy weight of dark magic that flowed through the halls.

My nose itched and my eyes watered at the smell. Even a normal human, with their feeble senses would have picked up on the evil that saturated this place. My wolf growled inside me wanting nothing to do with this place. If not for the boy, my boy, I would have followed his instincts and left.

The back room the crone lead me to had a newer couch, unstained by dust and time and left me to wait. A younger man, huge and muscular entered at her wordless bidding. "Someone is here to look at our newest merchandise. Bring up the spark."

My skin twitched involuntarily, like a horse trying to shake off a fly. The man, while outward healthy and fit, smelled of death and putrefaction. His dead eyes stared blindly ahead, not looking at the crone or me before turning and going to complete his task.

"Let's talk price while my servant fetches the pretty spark."

"We can talk price when I am sure that it is the one I seek. Yours is not the first establishment I have looked and I've been disappointed too many times to just blindly begin negotiations without first seeing your offering."

"Smart wolf." The crone purred as she ran her cold hand across my cheek in a parody of a lover's caress. I ignored the churning in my stomach and smiled back, meeting her yellowed grin with my own slightly sharper and definitely whiter version.

She stepped away as her servant returned pushing a thin teenager in front of him. At first I didn't even recognize Stiles. He had lost almost twenty pounds off a frame that had been thin to begin with. His hair was longer and unwashed, hanging in greasy tangles over his forehead. His eyes were downcast and cloudy with the sedative I could smell coming out of his pores, probably diazepam or something of that nature.

I tried to hold back my joy at seeing him alive and relatively unharmed. Not wanting to tip my hand I rose slowly and walked around him in a slow circle. I was supposed to be a buyer, not a hero charging in on a white steed. One wrong move on my part could cost us both our lives. I didn't want to spend my remaining days locked in someone's cellar or worse yet, be someone soulless servant.

Finishing my circuit around the teen I touched his chin with my finger lifting it upwards until he looked at me. For a second there was nothing, then dawning recognition followed by hopeless defeat. I would have to wonder about that later. "It's him. Let's talk price."

Stiles was quiet and still in the car as I drove us back to the little cabin I had rented while I searched. I hated hotels. They reeked of multitudes of strangers and the cloying scent of deodorizer and cleaner made me sneeze. The cabin was situated near a small pond surrounded by a small grove of trees. Perfect for a wolf to stretch his legs.

As we came closer to the cabin and safety, the sedative slowly wore off. The metallic scent from the drug was starting to lessen and Stiles' heartbeat was picking up. I caught a whiff of fear from the teen but the crunch of gravel and the view of the cabin pulled my attention away.

"Let's get you inside Stiles." I went around to his side and opened the door for him. He moved slow, almost unwilling, and I helped him along with a hand to his elbow, tugging him gently out of the car.

He stood, swaying like a pine caught in a storm, before me. The smell of fear intensified as I met his panicked dilated eyes. "Please Peter." He whispered with a shaky voice. "When you're finished, leave me somewhere my dad can find the body. Don't leave him wondering what happened to me. Give him some sort of closure in all this. God, Peter. Please!"

It hurt. That he could think I was still that rabid monster that he had set on fire so long ago ripped at my soul. The dark part of me, the part that had never healed from the fire and loss, snarled 'ungrateful brat' in the recesses of my mind but I ignored it as I pulled him into my arms.

"I'm not going to hurt you Stiles. I came to rescue you. Sorry I left my white hat behind but I was trying to be discrete." I think he might have laughed at that but I couldn't make it out from the sobs that racked his body. I held him, long past the sun setting, letting him drench my shirt in his tears until he was all dried up and worn out.

"I had to leave my phone here. To many chances that the evil bitch would find out that I was on the team of righteousness but if you come inside we can call your dad."

I tried not to listen as Stiles called home but I couldn't help but smile at the joy I could hear in his father's voice. They talked long past the time it took to make dinner but I kept the teen's warm knowing that he would need to get something in his stomach soon.

Stiles looked better after hanging up the phone. His eyes were brighter and his cheerful smile was back on his face. I know the darkness still lurked, just hidden from view, but for now our spark, my spark was back.

"I don't know how I can ever thank you Peter."

"It's just dinner Stiles. You can make that lasagna of yours when we get back and we'll call it even."

Stiles looked up, meeting my eyes for the first time since I had found him. "I'm serious Peter. I was there. I know how much you paid for me. I will figure out some way to repay you."

I didn't want him to feel the need to repay me. Deep down I knew he didn't understand, couldn't feel the pull I felt for him, the need I had to be in his presence. Sometimes in the middle of the night when I laid awake from the nightmares that haunted me, I wondered if I had bitten Stiles instead of Scott my life would have been different.

Stiles had started to heal my mental wounds long before anyone saw a change in me. From the moment he stared me down over the limp form of that girl he professed to love, I had been changing. Had anyone else thrown that bottle at me, I wouldn't have paused long enough for it to blow up in my hand, I would have dropped it and just continued on my killing spree. But Stiles called to the good in me.

"You want to repay me?" I asked softly moving into his space. He looked scared but nodded in the 'I'll be brave' way of his. I stepped closer and watched him steel himself with a harsh swallow. I guess I hadn't been so subtle in my desires after all. "This is how you can repay me. I want you to go back to school, finish your senior year with honors and leave the horrors of this behind you. I want you to go off to a good college, find a girl to love or a boy to love. Pursue something that lights a fire under you and makes you happy. Live your life. If you want to repay me, do it by being happy."

His eyes widened as I spoke. He was adorable when surprised. We stood toe to toe for a few seconds, Stiles' warm breath ghosting over the skin of my neck. When he moved it was quick and sudden and not at all in the direction I was expecting. Leaning forward he kissed me, warm and gently with a hint of his tongue across the seam of my lips. "Are you sure that is all you want."

Oh shit. No, I wanted more. I wanted it all. I needed Stiles but I had spent the last year and a half of my waking and dead life being a selfish bastard. I would give up my wants and needs for him. "Yes, Stiles." I said pushing him gently away. "That is all I want." Though if I was honest with myself, I knew I could never stand to see the look of regret he would have, the disgust he would look upon me with if that's how I allowed him to repay me. It was better this way.

Nodding he turned back to his dinner, a flash of something I couldn't quite name flickering in his eyes. That night I slept on the couch letting Stiles take the small bed. I stayed away and listened to him breathe, woke him when the terrors disturbed his sleep, and guarded him until the sun rose the next morning.

I watched as he pulled himself back together over a greasy sugar laden breakfast. By the time I paid the check he was back to his sarcastic, mouthy self. If I saw the shadows darkening his eyes or sniffed the traces of fear that lingered, I kept it to myself. Stiles was stronger than most gave him credit for and I would not diminish that by treating him as a weakling.

Stiles' return healed more than just the wound left by his kidnapping; it drew us closer as a pack, made us stronger. The sheriff was now completely aware of our status as werewolves and absorbed the information with the same mental shrug that Stiles had not so long ago. The two were eerily similar.

Aside from his appointment with a therapist twice weekly, Stiles seemed to return to his usually self. We knew better, Derek and me, and took turns waiting outside his window those first few months for the night terrors to come. On my nights, when I gently woke him from his nightmare, he would curl around me and hold me tight.

I would lay there surrounded by his warmth and scent and pretend that it was my real life, that somehow all this could be mine. But when his breathing deepened back into true sleep, I would slide out of his hold and return to the emptiness that was my real life. It was really all I deserved.

The pack celebrated the end of summer and the new adventures that awaited our youngest members as they headed off to college with a weekend by the lake. Teenage werewolves are, unsurprisingly, loud and very energetic. The only thing that kept Derek from ending up soaked was his status as alpha. Even that couldn't save him the huge, wet puppy pile that Stiles insisted was an important bonding experience.

I was smirking from my position as outlier of the pack, and therefore still dry, when Stiles tackled me in a hug meant to get me as damp as possible and pulled me closer. I made by displeasure known with half-hearted growls but, thankfully, was ignored.

We finished our celebration weekend at a diner. The pack sat happily around the largest table as they worked their way through a mountain of food. Teenagers are eating machines. Throw werewolf into the mix and you have eating machines capable of consuming twice their weight in hamburgers and French fries and still have room for dessert.

Stiles smiled happily from across the table. His eyes had long ago lost the haunted look that I feared would ruin him. The only noticeable reminder of his ordeal was the intense focus on physical training and his magic that had shaped him, in the last year, into someone deadly.

Not that you could tell by looking at him. His eyes, framed by dark lashes, still shone with happiness and joy, their honey brown color pulling pack and strangers alike to look into their depths for longer than was necessary. His workouts had added lean muscles to his frame, wider shoulders and tight abs that he still hid under layers of baggy clothing. He talked with his whole body, hands sketching thoughts in the air and his face animated with expressive features and lips.

Sitting across from me, Stiles was working his way through a double burger and a mountain of curly fries nudging my leg every so often and smiling in my direction. He was slowly eating the whipped cream off his chocolate shake with a straw.

The straw would swirl mesmerizingly through the cream until the end was coated. Stiles would then bring it to his lips, sliding it in as he listened to his friends talk about their plans. A stray fleck of white would be left behind on the corner of his lip until the tip of his pink tongue would search it out, curling over the sweetness and bringing it back into his mouth. The motion would tug his lip along with it until he would catch its fullness with his teeth, scraping the last morsel away.

I thought my reaction was subtle until Derek rested his hand over mine where I had ripped furrows into the seat cover exposing white padding and fluff. Scott pulled the shake away from Stiles and scooped off the whipped cream with a "Dude, no shake porn in public." Stiles pulled off the confused innocent with the skill of a professional actor but I could smell the smugness coming off him. Lydia, sitting a few seats down from me ignored it all with her usually haughtiness. How she could continue to blind to his charm was beyond my comprehension.

We parted ways in the parking lot each of us heading in our own separate direction. It wasn't a good-bye, just a 'see ya later' Stiles was joyfully telling the teary eyed pack. Hugs were distributed all around and the teens slowly started to pile into their cars to head home to finish packing for college.

Stiles was one of the last to leave, waving happily as he bounced in place as each car drove out of sight. Derek slapped him on the back making him stagger forward a step before pulling him into a quick hug. "Stay out of trouble Stiles!" he mock growled.

"Will do Derek. See you at Thanksgiving." I didn't even have a chance to prepare myself and I just barely caught him in a hug as he threw himself against me, arms winding their way around my waist. "Take care Peter. Don't go all Dark Side on me while I'm gone." He smiled up into my eyes and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. "I'll see you at Thanksgiving too! You're bringing the pie."

With a casual wave he climbed behind the wheel of the rust bucked he called a jeep and pulled away. Derek rested his hand on my shoulder as the tail light faded into the distance. "You could tell him." My nephew said.

"No. He has a life to live and he doesn't need to be tied down to an older man. He doesn't need someone broken like me. And he would feel obligated, like I was owed. No Derek. It's better that he doesn't know."

Derek looked sad but understanding. Actually he looked constipated and grumpy but we had all learned to read the subtle changed in his expression by now. "Four years isn't that long." He whispered to the wind.

"They'll come back," I soothed but I knew that four years could be a life time and our pack mates would return to us changed.

Stiles had found his element at college and it showed upon his return. He had a confidence that he had been missing in high school a knowledge, finally, of his own worth.

Thanksgiving was a whirl of activities strongly punctuated by massive eating binges that left us mostly comatose on the couch watching football. The sheriff and Derek seemed to bond over the game while Stiles rested his head on my thigh and dozed. The rest of the pack draped themselves over the left over pieces of furniture while watching the game with varying amounts of interest.

The holiday was over too quickly and once again I was left waving good-bye as my pack left, spread out across the country. I felt hollow with their departure, the darkness that I tried to keep at bay, inching closer and tightening its grip on my soul.

"Hey Peter." I had heard Stiles' bouncy step but didn't turn, not wanting to watch him leave again. His arms wrapped around me from behind and he rested his chin on my shoulder needing only to stand on his tip-toes to accomplish it but I could smell the smugness coming off him. "You know you could email me or text me. Hell, you could even write me a letter if the rest is to new- fangled for you. But really, you need to keep in touch."

With a last squeeze he jumped into his jeep, which amazingly was still managing to run and drove away. I wrote him a letter the next day smiling at the idea that his fingers would touch where mine once did. It was a little thing but it held me together.

The next time I saw Stiles was Winter Break. The pack had been invited over to the Sheriff's house for the day and Stiles was running late. Turns out the jeep was on its last wheels and broke down just outside of town. Derek rolled his eyes and offered to pick Stiles up so the sheriff could finish barbequing the meat.

When they returned Stiles was not alone. He bounced through the door pulling a petite girl with hair the color of a summer sky behind him. His father blinked once before greeting her with a smile and a hug for his son.

Erin, the blue haired girl, was charming and funny and I hated her on sight. Her eyes, which were also blue, gazed adoringly at Stiles for the entire night. She laughed at his jokes and sat mesmerized as he told tails of his and Scott's high school adventures while managing to leave out all the supernatural bits with a practiced ease.

By the end of the evening Erin had comfortably meshed with the pack and was curled with her head on Stiles' shoulder and her feet in Scott's lap. I stayed mostly in the kitchen. By the time the pack left for the night the dishes were done, the cabinets reorganized, the refrigerator cleaned of all unidentified life forms, and the floor was waxed 'til it shone.

Stiles walked us all out to our cars to say goodbye. "I was hoping we would get to spend some more time together but Erin and I am leaving tomorrow to go skiing." He gave me a long hug before heading back to the house. From the corner of my eye I could see him watching me pull out of the driveway from the porch, waving until I was out of sight.

I didn't go home that night. I drove to the preserve and ran. I ran until the sun rose the next morning and Derek tracked me down, my fur covered in mud and leaves, and dragged me back to his loft until I was human again.

"Maybe you should tell him," Derek offered.

"I'm not ruining his life," I snarled at my alpha.

Derek sighed and dropped a comforting hand on my mud flecked shoulder. "No, you're just ruining yours."

Spring Break brought Stiles back to Beacon Hills along with Kevin. Kevin was 6'2'' with dark black hair and green eyes. The boy seemed to wear nothing but black and drove the most testosterone laced muscle car I had ever seen outside of Derek's drive way.

The pack all met up for diner at the café near the police station. The sheriff, as usual for Beacon Hills, had a case he was working on and could barely spare the time for a quick dinner.

Mr. Stilinski blinked twice when Kevin slid his chair closer to Stiles and wrapped an affectionate arm around his shoulders before dropping a quick kiss to his cheek. Scott inhaled his swallow of coke and had to be saved by Allison.

Kevin and Derek, looking like long lost twins, bonded over their love of cars, baseball, and bad first impressions of Stiles. "Hey, you couldn't take your eyes off of me the first time we met," Stiles huffed at Kevin.

"You spilled an entire Venti coffee on me in the library. I was trying to decide if I wanted to kill you or ask you out on a date."

The pack chuckled at the image. "That's a fairly common occurrence with Stiles," Isaac quipped.

Stiles raised a single eyebrow, which I knew he had been practicing for at least a year, and smiled bright and cheery at Isaac. "So you wanted to ask me out too?" Isaac gaped like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing, before snapping it shut with a click and a shrug of defeat.

At the end of dinner the sheriff shook hands with Kevin. "Make yourself at home. I'm sure I will be back by tomorrow and maybe the three of us could head to the lake."

"Thanks Mr. Stilinski but I'm heading to my parents tomorrow morning. I just wanted to give Stiles a ride and get to spend some time with him before I had to head off." Kevin blushed a little and squeezed Stiles' hand. Lydia and Allison bumped shoulders and cooed as they melted into a pile of romantic goo.

While Kevin and the sheriff talked I made my way closer to Stiles. "I never knew you had a thing for our alpha," I said with more snark in my voice than I meant too.

Stiles glanced back and forth between the two black clad men noting the way they stood and moved in almost the exact same manner except for the sudden look of shock Derek sent our way as he overheard my whispered snarl.

Instead of being the least embarrassed Stiles grin seemed to get even wider and he winked at Derek. "Maybe I had an itch. It's college after all. I'm supposed to try new things. Plus, have you SEEN Kevin. God, he is so hot!"

Allison leaned closer and joined our not so secret conversation. "Stiles you shouldn't objectify people like that," she scolded with a serious frown that didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Do you think we could get them to take their shirts off so we could compare."

"Hey!" Derek and Scott both yelped and Stiles and Allison collapsed together in a fit of giggles. Stiles leaned against me until Kevin finished talking to his father. I inhaled his scent of summer sun and sugared coffee. He was no longer taking such a strong dose of his medication so the metallic scent of the Adderall was just a subtle note in the background.

"Let's all meet for breakfast before Kevin has to leave tomorrow." Stiles suggested. "Peter, can you give me a ride back from Denny's tomorrow?" I nodded unable to deny him anything when he looked at me through his lashes with that half smile that made my knees weak.

The next two and a half years were mostly the same. Stiles and the rest of the pack would arrive home for the holidays. Stiles always had a date on his arm; male, female, and once a striking woman that smelled of brine and dark, wet places who smiled at Derek and I and commented on how nice it was to meet the "moon called".

I smiled each time, played my part as the family friend to perfection and kept my pain a secret from all but my brooding nephew. But each time he left it became a little harder, I fell deeper into that dark well of depression and it took me longer to pull myself back out.

"Your wolf has claimed him as mate. You could at least ask him out for coffee or something." Derek said as he tracked me down once again in the preserve. I shook my whole body in response coating Derek in a fine mist of muddy water and rich earth.

Half way through their junior year Derek had to call the pack back for an emergency. They all came, showing up at the loft almost as one filling the room with the energy and warmth.

Stiles came armed with a backpack that smelled of herbs and ozone never letting it out of his hold even as he lounged on the couch next to Scott. The betas bantered back and forth like they had never been separated until Derek called them to order with a sigh and explained the danger that faced the population of Beacon Hills.

"Vampires?" Scott squawked. "There's no such thing, right? Stiles, shouldn't I have been told about vampires?"

Stiles kept his eyes from rolling but it was a near thing. "Most of the Broods in North America have set territories so if there are vampires here they must be a lesser branch that's trying to start its own nest."

The room was silent as everyone stared at Stiles. "What?" He turned in his seat as if to look for the person the rest of the pack was staring at. "Guys, exactly what do you think I've been studying the last three years?"

Scott raised his hand.

Derek and I both pinched the bridge of our nose at the same time. It must be a family trait. Stiles just smirked with the bare corner of his lip and called on Scott with an almost straight face.

"You're taking anthropology, classical literature, and forensic science but I've never really understood what your major is."

"Really? Do any of you even listen to me when I'm talking? I'm a spark and there are people out there that look for and recognize people like me. A college is the perfect place to find us and get us the training we need. Those are the classes that show up on my transcript but what I've really been taking is so much cooler."

"So what do we do about the brood?" My nephew had come a long way in the last few years. He was still looked emotionally constipated but he had begun to refine his leadership and personal skills. He knew Stiles' strengths as a tactician and was willing to listen and learn from the younger human.

Had Derek given Stiles a heads up about the issue facing Beacon Hills our young spark would have most likely created a media presentation with his accumulated knowledge. By the end of his impromptu lesson on nest and brood dynamics, Stiles had filled up a notebooks worth of paper with information and had them tacked up around the room with electrical tape.

"So we ask them to leave?" Isaac asked with an air of disbelief. "We just stroll up to their nest and say 'excuse me, this is werewolf territory, would you mind packing up and leaving at dusk?"

"Pretty much," Stiles had draped himself over the large chair that I usually sat in. He was rubbing his cheek against the fabric as if scenting it. "But we go armed to the teeth because they will either apologize profusely and leave or try to kill us. Or turn some of us. They will probably want to keep me alive. Sparks are pretty handy to have around."

"They don't get to keep you," I found myself growling. "You don't belong to them." I wanted to smack myself in the head. Now was not the time to start slipping up with Stiles, we needed him focused. I needed him safe.

"So what special weapons to we need?" Boyd didn't speak much but when finally spoke up he had the best questions.

"Most of the lore on vampires is bunk. They can move about during the day as long as they avoid direct sunlight and NO they don't sparkle. Your claws will work just fine. Take out their throat or heart. If it would kill you, it will kill one of them. They have strength comparable to you guys so if it comes to a fight, it could get nasty. I think we need to keep Allison back as cover in case it gets messy." Leaning his head over the arm of the chair he smiled at the huntress upside down adding, "Head shots work best."

Derek and I finalized plans with the rest of the pack while Allison went to grab more weapons from her father's armory. Stiles enclosed himself in a chalk drawn circle and slowly went through the items in his pack pulling out chunks of glowing crystal and shimmering rocks; packets of leaves and herbs; and a long silver knife.

The smell of copper filled the room and the pack turned as one towards its source. My wolf howled at the sight of his blood dripping down his fingers toward the items he had laid before him tugging me closer until I stood at the edge of the chalk line.

"I'm a Spark. The magic is in my blood, literally in my blood. Sparks are the ones that create the spells that other practitioners can use, we lay the stepping stones of power down for others to follow." Opening his eyes he gave the pack a lazy smile. "I'm kinda special."

"I always knew that," I whispered but since I was standing at the edge of his circle I was well within his range of hearing. He looked up at me, catching me before I could look away. His expression didn't change but something warm traveled down my spine and curled in my belly, sending tingles to my extremities until Stiles looked away.

Wiping the blood away on the side of his jeans, Stiles stood and scraped the circle open with the toe of his shoe. He tossed us each a small stone. "These only have a single charge. If you touch it to their skin it will burn them like the sun for a moment or two. It won't kill them but it will give you the distraction you need to take them out. If we need to, that is. I'm hoping they will play nice and just move on."

But the look in his face was one of resignation. Our luck was never such that the easy way out wasn't even an option for us. There would be a battle tonight, blood would be spilled.

Their nest was located in a new strip center that had never taken off. Most of the storefronts were bare of any signs. The one on the corner had a 'Mr. Happy's Do-Nuts' sign but had been long closed.

"I'm guessing Mr. Happy wasn't." Stiles smirked from my left. The center was surrounded on three sides by open fields, the power lines that ran perpendicular to the building creating a green zone and, more importantly, a buffer for the innocent bystanders to what could end up being a bloody battle.

Derek led us around back where strange signals were etched onto the wall. To the casual observer it would look like graffiti but from Stiles' hiss we all knew it meant something more.

"We can forget asking. They are here for the long haul." Stiles rolled his shoulders. Faster even than I could see he had a long silver blade in his hand with ruins snaking up the edge like blue lightening.

I caught the scent of something cold, reptilian like just as Derek lifted his head and warned, "Look sharp."

They had the numbers on us at first, dropping out of the darkness as if they just formed from night itself. Two hit Derek and Boyd straight on, focusing their strength on what they saw as our big guns. They were right to an extent, Derek and Boyd are our strongest wolves and most powerful fighters when it comes to hand to hand but our pack was too smart to rely on shear might alone.

"Down," Allison called from high in the electrical tower. Derek and Boyd dropped like stones. A flurry of arrows whizzed down striking three of them in the head. The fourth was thrown back by a shot to the shoulder that went straight through. Boyd rolled, catching the wounded under him and tore his head from his body.

Now the odds were more in our favor.

The vampires were fast and smart. They didn't give Allison another opening. Weaving in and out of the pack, they made sure to keep the wolves between themselves and Allison's arrows.

A tall blonde with a super models figure, that is to say skeletal, bore down upon me. Before my claws could tear into her she leapt over my head. It was so sudden that I could see where the idea of vampires being able to fly came from.

He nails cut across my back as I dropped down and forward, sweeping my leg behind me to knock her off balance. Instead of falling she just flipped backwards and then lunged toward me. I caught her wrists right at my throat, close enough that I could feel her nails tickling against my jugular.

She was fast but I was stronger. Twisting one arm up and around I spun her until we stood back to chest and then sank my teeth into her neck and ripped and tore. Her blood filled my mouth, not the rich iron taste of life but a dead sludge that clung to my tongue and coated the back of my throat.

I was going to have to take out stock in mouthwash after tonight.

I shook and gnawed through muscle and tendon until I felt the hardness of bone beneath my fangs. My wolf found the sound of the snap and crunch to be pleasing. I hacked and spat black gore all over the back lot trying to get the taste out of my mouth.

Stiles stood surrounded by a muted blue light, his sword coated with blood and a headless body at his feet. There were just two more fighting against Isaac and Scott but Boyd and Derek were moving in to help finish them off. Stiles smiled. It lit up his face making him glow from within but just as suddenly as it appeared the smile vanished leaving fear behind.

I didn't even have to hear the warning. I was already turning to discover that the vampires were smarter than we had ever imagined. What we had fought was just the first wave. Baring down upon me was the second and they took me down with a ferocity that I would have struggled to match even as an alpha so long ago.

The first two ripped into my abdomen digging deep with their razor tipped nails. A third grabbed my shoulder swinging me around as she ripped a sizable chunk of my flesh. My blood seemed to make a mist in the air as I toppled backwards my body going limp.

Funny. You would think there would be pain but it was just a coldness, like glacier ice moving through my blood stream. The world moved slowly, the motions of my pack and the vampires jerking and flickering as if under a strobe light.

Then my vision cleared and Stiles was hovering above me. It was a good sight. Something I would gladly take to the grave with me. I think I smiled.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Stiles roared a sound of anguish and fury. His eyes had always been a warm whisky color, brown with hints of amber and wine. As he turned his rage on the vampires they were still a whisky color, if you placed a glass of whisky up in a window and then set off a nuclear weapon behind it. They glowed, incandescent.

The air around him smelled of ozone, tasting of the remains of lightning after a storm. Stiles kneeled over me looking more like a predator than I had ever seen him. His arms spread outward, palms up and the very molecules that made up the world around me shuttered at his force.

The cement dividers wrenched free of their steel rod posts. They hovered for a second, just long enough for Stiles to yell 'down' and then they were flying across the parking lot to slam into what remained of the brood.

"I always said you were handy to have around," I coughed, the words of each syllable seeming to catch in my throat so that I had to force the sounds out past the blood. Stiles' hands were warm, almost hot on my chest. They were the only thing I was able to feel as I slipped further away into the ice that rose up to take me away.

"No, damn you. No! No! No!" With each 'no' a bolt of green lightning entered my body. It wasn't really green, I couldn't see it but that was the way it felt to my body. It was like electricity turned into a sun soaked meadow, full of life, full of love. Full of Stiles.

I opened my eyes in shock. I wanted to tell him to stop, that I wasn't worth the energy he was pouring into my body. I didn't want him to pay that price. Not for me.

There was blood pouring from his nose as Derek pulled him away from me. As soon as my nephew gathered him up into his arms Stiles went limp, a rag doll of human proportion.

I struggled to rise, to go to him, pull him away from Derek so that I could hold him. Just once more. I made it to my knees.

And then nothing.

I woke and immediately wanted to curse the breath that I took into my lungs. The cost of my survival a price I would have never willingly paid. My eyes burned with tears, my throat constricting feeling like it was filled with desert sand, harsh and gritty. Damn my life, damn my soul.

"Can you keep the angst to a whisper. Some of us are trying to recover. I don't heal like a werewolf and over reaching my limits power- wise is SO much worse than any hangover."

As he spoke Stiles nuzzled closer into my shoulder, the one that had been shredded like so much meat the night before. I let my arm curl around his warmth, testing to see if he was real. His body was firm beneath my touch, warm and scented like the summer sun and sweet coffee.

"I thought I had lost you."

"Pft! I'm not that easy to get rid of Peter." He leaned up on an elbow and started to check me for injuries. His free hand pulled down the neck of my t-shirt to check my shoulder. The skin was smooth beneath his touch.

Then he rucked up the hem of my shirt running warm fingers along the area that had been slashed. There was nothing to show for it but a memory of ice. "I'm all better now, thanks to you."

"So I guess now we're even."

I looked up at him as my heart clinched with pain. "God Stiles, you never owed me anything. I never held a debt over your head, never. You were supposed to live your life, be happy. I didn't want you to feel like you were in any way obligated to repay me."

Stiles' smile stretched Cheshire cat style from ear to ear. "I know that but do you know that?" My confusion must have shown because he continued. "You've been so careful of me. Never asking for anything, always making sure you stood out of my way. You never got close, just hovered in the background."

Stiles let his chin rest on my chest, his breath ghosting across my neck. I closed my eyes and just let myself inhale his scent. "I've been patient Peter. I knew you didn't want me to just blindly follow you in some misguided drive to repay you for saving me. So I did what you told me. I lived my life."

"I've dated. I followed my heart in regards to my schooling and career. I have played this game by your rules for almost four year and yesterday you almost died. So now we are even and I don't have to play by your rules anymore."

"Stiles," I begged. I couldn't find the words. I had wanted to set him free but had somehow managed to tie him in bonds tighter than anything I could have imagined even at my worse. "I never meant…"

He cut me off with a kiss, demanding and strong. Before I knew it I had opened up to him, letting him take control as he mapped out every bit of my mouth and tangling with my tongue before nipping his way down my neck.

"For someone that is as smart as you are, you can be a real idiot. I've given you time and I've given you space. But I'm done." He sat up straddling my hips with his knees and pinning me to the bed with hands to my shoulder. "As of now we are EVEN! I owe you nothing, you owe me nothing. Do you agree?"

I could only nod confused at where he was going with this. "Good. Now we can start anew." He kissed me again pulling at the neck of shirt to expose the skin so that he could leave kisses and small bite behind as he moved lower.

The shirt made what sounded like a whine before tearing under Stiles' grasp. He looked up from where he was marking my chest to smile at me with glee. With a laugh he tore it the rest of the way down to expose my chest and stomach.

Leaning back on his heels he just gazed down at me, lust evident in his eyes. "How could you possible miss how much I've wanted you all this time?"

"I see it now, Stiles." I rolled him slowly giving him every opportunity to resist but he just relaxed in my grip and let me move him into the position I wanted. With a touch of my claws I returned the favor and got rid of his shirt in much the same fashion as mine. Its tattered remains floated to the floor as Stiles chuckled under me sending vibrations along my chest where we touched.

I worked my way slowly down his chest worshipping every inch of him from the light stubble on his chin to the small crescent shaped scar on his right hip. I kissed along its curve and looked up at Stiles, my curiosity clear in my eyes.

"Story for another day Peter. Another day." Nodding I continued to work my way down sliding his boxers off, letting my fingers play along the length of his legs as I did so. Tracing the lean muscles of his thighs and calves down to the arch of his foot, I removed the last item of clothing that separated his skin from my touch.

I stood at the edge of the bed letting the last of my clothing fall to my feet. Crawling back up the bed, keeping Stiles between my hands and knees as I traveled upward, I worked my way back to his lips.

Sitting back on my heels I pulled him up into my embrace, holding him like I had for years in my dreams, running my hands along his flesh as I devoured his mouth, clinging to him. For the first time since the fire, since my life had gone up in flames and smoke, I felt whole.

Stiles remained pliant in my arms as I kissed him tracing the contour of his neck and chin with my mouth, tasting each part of him and breathing deeply of his scent. The side of his neck under his ear was especially sensitive and after a few moments of lavishing attention on it Stiles groaned and arched against me.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders pulling me back down to the bed shifting so that he could spread his legs sliding them up and around my waist to urge me closer. His hips started undulating, each stroke upward bringing us together. I didn't even try to stifle the cries that Stiles coaxed from my body.

Pulling away, dodging Stiles' grabby hands as I did, I reached over to my bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube. Staring between the tube and Stiles laid out before me like an offering, I couldn't hold back my hiss of disappointment.

"I haven't had anyone but me for a long time Stiles." It's okay, I reasoned with myself, there were many other things I could to him until I made it to the corner store.

"Oh no! You are not getting away from me tonight." Stiles laughed and then rolled me over. I could have stopped him easily but the feel of his muscles flexing against me would have me rolling over for him anytime. My wolf agreed and we both arched under him baring my throat to him in submission.

Stiles stilled above me and for a second I thought I went too far, exposed too much of my true feelings for what could be, for Stiles, just a one night stand. "Damn Peter. You have no idea what you do to me." With a growl Stiles leaned down and bite me along the shoulder hard enough to break the skin.

I arched against him trying to get the friction I needed but he jumped off the bed to rummage through his bag. Within seconds he was back with a handful of foil packets, kissing me with everything he had as he pushed them into my hand.

Grabbing the tube out of my grasp Stiles popped the cap and poured a generous amount into the palm of my hand. Leaning back he guided my wrist downward as he spread his legs wider and arched his back.

He groaned and mewed and thrashed as I spread him open. By the time I had worked in three fingers he was panting my name like a prayer. "I'm good, I'm good. I need you now." He dug his heels into my hips in encouragement.

His hand rested on my shoulders, rubbing small circles against my skin, as I gripped his hips and lined up. I started with a shallow, slow thrust but Stiles rolled his hips under me and I found myself completely sheathed within him.

"Mine," my wolf growled slipping from out of my control. Stiles stared into my eyes as I lost control of my shift. I knew they had to be glowing but he didn't flinch or pull away, he leaned back tilting his chin back as he arched.

"Yours," he agreed as I started to move. "I've always been yours." I reached between our bodies and stroked him in time with my thrusts reducing Stiles to unintelligible garbled syllables and gasps. He clung to me, mirroring my movements, driving me to go faster and deeper.

He traced the plains of my face with fingertips, stroking the ridge of my forehead and around my lips brushing the tips of my fangs. His pupils were blown wide leaving only a thin ring of burnt umber. Stiles' breath hitched just seconds before he stiffened below me, calling out my name as he came in shuddering twitches.

I rode out his orgasm, thrusting through as his body clinched around me. As I came I bit down on his shoulder the hint of iron on my tongue sending me over the edge and my vision filled with white.

Coming back to myself I stared at the damage I had done. The bit wasn't deep but there was a perfect outline of my teeth, just barely bleeding, in his skin. I expected anger or disgust when I met his gaze but Stiles just smiled his widest grin at me.

"There's no take back on this, is there?" He hummed happily and pulled me closer. Wincing just a little as I pulled out her rolled so that he could drape himself across my body, shifting minutely until he was comfortable.

"So were you ever planning on telling me that your wolf had chosen me as his mate or were you just going to pine over me from afar for the rest of your life?"

I'm usually very verbal but all I could manage in response was a lackluster "maybe". Not my finest moment. Stiles' laugh rumbled in his chest as he kissed his way up my chest until he reached my lips.

"Well you can't get rid of me now. I wear your mark on my skin for the world to see. So there will be no more hiding from me Peter. This thing," he gestured between our two bodies, "It's real. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. Got it?"

"But your school, your future. I can't let you tie yourself down to me. I won't be the thing that ruins your life."

"You're not ruining my life unless you do something like run away but then I will just have to hunt you down. I'm a spark so I have my ways."

"Your college," I whispered trying to give him every chance to escape because if he said yes, if he agreed to be mine, than I would never be able to let him go.

"I've been offered a job so I'm dropping out. I haven't told my dad yet, I was going to wait to the end of this semester. I'll be working for a think tank that specializes in…" Stiles smiled a wickedly secretive grin as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "things that go bump in the night."

Rolling off of me he went to the small bathroom and pulled out a washcloth, wetting it before returning to bed. "It will be mostly consulting work so I will spend most of my time here in Beacon Hills. I'll have to go into the office once a month but with what they are going to be paying me, I can just get a hotel for those days."

My heart hammered within my chest as I was filled with something I hadn't really felt in years; hope. "So you're going to live with your dad?"

Stiles bit my chest lightly. "For a while. At least until my boyfriend asks me to move in with him."

I closed my eyes and held him tight, tucking his head under my chin and wrapping my arms around his waist. "I've just got a little studio apartment in town. Maybe you could help me pick out something bigger, something that both of us would enjoy."

He kissed me again, slow and languid, before smiling in agreement. Stiles nuzzled deeper into my hold and closed his eyes. I stayed awake as his breathing and heartbeat slowed, holding him as he drifted off into sleep.

I couldn't believe it wasn't a dream and I began to catalogue points of reality to prove this wasn't all in my head. My shoulder still twinged from where Stiles bit me, my leg was falling to sleep where my mate's hip was pressed into it cutting off the flow of blood, and after a while Stiles started to snore and drool on my chest.

For so long all I had were dreams and fantasies so I enjoyed the feel of reality; the pain, the tingles, and the wet annoyance. All these things added up to one wonderful whole, Stiles was mine at last. I closed my eyes and joined my mate in slumber.


End file.
